


things left unsaid

by heronlibra



Category: Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War, Fire Emblem: Thracia 776
Genre: M/M, Pining, Rarepair, eldigan is fucking died, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24375055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heronlibra/pseuds/heronlibra
Summary: lewyn thinks back on his relationship with the deceased king of nordion, and how it could have been better ... or worse.commissioned fic from a friend!
Relationships: eldigan/lewyn
Kudos: 6





	1. the beginning of it all

Rain coated the land of Nordion on the spring evening when king Eldigan Lionheart was put to rest in the cold ground. It soaked the attendants, but none minded. His wife was inconsolable at his headstone, and his poor boy stood nearby, small and helpless. There were tears in the bard’s eyes as well, but they were well hidden underneath his hood as he thought about how this could have been prevented. Eldigan, Sigurd, and himself … they were always three opposing forces in this cruel world. His mind drifted to happier days when they were all young men, attending their parents’ meetings about the futures of their countries. They had seemed so carefree then. Perhaps they were, without the knowledge of the burden of royalty upon any of their heads. Or at least, not upon Eldigan’s. He and Sigurd were prepared for ruling ever since the moment they could walk and talk. 

They were so different, but also so much the same. Lewyn moves closer to the front, thinking about how as a teen, Eldigan had seemed so imposing. So far above him. And now …

Now they’d never see each other again. And it hurt. It stung him deep to know that he’d never see that tired smile or those golden eyes again. It hurt to know he couldn’t even mourn properly, that he wasn’t even supposed to be here. But nothing hurt more than knowing he’d be where his grieving wife was if only they’d run together, all those years ago. If all those years ago, he could have convinced the blonde to leave Nordion and Augustria behind, where would they be now? Would they still be joking and laughing with one another, as they had when they were young? Would they be distant and cold, as they were at the end of Eldigan’s life, or would they have reconciled in their feelings? 

Lewyn didn’t know the answer. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It was so different now, he wasn’t even sure he could reminisce yet. He slowly turns his back to the gravestone, moving silently through the crowd to leave. Just a wanderer, he supposes, always a wanderer. There was nowhere Lewyn really belonged, and it was beginning to ebb at his insides. He couldn’t help but think back to when it was all so much simpler … And soon enough, the wayward bard was lost in his thoughts.

* * *

Lewyn had snuck out. The meeting had dragged on and on and on, and he was so tired of sitting through countless pointless politics, talks that went above his head or through his body like knives, since every time he tried to give input on … anything, really, he was shushed or dismissed outright. And so he snuck out, wandering the gardens of the castle and strumming the lute that he always had with him. It was difficult to be a prince unwanted, and it was even worse to know that it was your own parents who were dismissing you. There is a commotion that catches his ears -- It sounds like someone is arguing quietly. He tiptoes closer, peering through a bush to find Sigurd and Eldigan, the sons of Grannvale and Augustria respectively, having a small disagreement.

“I’m sure he went this way, Sigurd. Don’t ask me how I know, but if you would just listen to --”

“Eldigan, it's not any of our business that Lewyn snuck out. We’re not supposed to bring him back, or anything. We’ve just been sent to check on him.”

“I  _ know _ that, but you are not listening to me.”

“This again? You know I always hold you in the highest respect, Eldigan.”

“Hmph. Perhaps we should split up for now, then.”

“I think that’s a lovely idea.”

With dual huffs from both of the young men, Sigurd went right into the maze of trees and Eldigan left into the groves of flowers. Lewyn stifled a laugh, picking a tune on his lute. A breeze tugged at the blonde’s cape and it made him turn around inside of the heart of the daffodils, looking all around for which way the breeze had come from.

“Lewyn?”

Another breeze tugged on his cape from the other way, and Eldigan frowned. “I know it’s you doing that to me. Where are you?” 

With one more little melody, Lewyn commands the wind to blow the cape right over the blonde’s head and he bursts into laughter as it happens. Loud and sweet, much like the lute’s strings. 

Eldigan struggles for a moment before he rights himself, scowling from embarrassment as his cheeks are flushed pink. He starts towards the bushes and Lewyn eeps, scrambling away from his hiding spot a little too slowly. The other teen catches him and lifts him from his spot with ease, holding him in the air like a naughty cat.   
“ _Lewyn._ ”

“Hi, El.” 

Eldigan sets his friend on his feet, crossing his arms afterwards. “I assume you heard Sigurd and I, since you’re usually sneaking around and eavesdropping.” 

“I am not!”

Eldigan fixes him with a look and Lewyn squirms. “Okay, I was this time. But I don’t do it  _ all  _ the time, El. Besides, you can lord it over him that you found me first.”

“I do not --”

“I know you’re just mad I pranked you.”

“I am  _ not -- _ ” 

“Relaaaaax, Eldigan. Or you’re gonna get wrinkles before you’re forty.” 

Eldigan draws his shoulders up and drags in a breath, holding it for a moment before exhaling. A habit Lewyn knew he kept when he was feeling stressed or angry about something. 

“Are … you pouting?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lewyn. I do not pout.”

“Oh my God, you are.” He strums a tense chord on his lute and the wind breezes through them both. “Anyways, you’re just checking on me, right? Shouldn’t you run back to your parents’ sides and tell them I’m fine?” No mention of his own, Eldigan notes. Lewyn, who is allowed to do whatever he wishes, whenever … it makes the young duke of Augustria feel slight jealousy. 

“I am. I’m also here to tell you that you’re going to have lunch with the duke of Veltholmer, as per your mother’s request.”

“WHAT? I have to eat lunch with  _ Arvis? _ ”

“Don’t give me that. I didn’t make the decision. And with that message delivered, I’ll be on my way.” Eldigan turns heel and begins to walk off, leaving Lewyn watching his retreating figure. 

“He’s so serious … seriously boring.” Lewyn rolls his eyes, but sighs and packs his lute away. He’ll have to return to the meeting now anyways, just to protest having to be anywhere near the redhead. Even if it was for Silesse’s future, it didn’t mean he couldn’t hate it. He runs after Eldigan, with a million thoughts on his mind, and a few even about how handsome the blonde looked, standing around in the flowers, with little on his mind except for taking a much needed break from the politics of it all. 

If only the moment could last forever. But like all good things, this too would come to an end. The next time they met, it would be at an even tenser time in both of their lives.


	2. rain threatens to fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uh oh spaghetti o's! someone's fightin! i twist canon a little bit here, sorry --

The sky threatened rain on the next date that the young men of Augustria, Grannvale, Veltholmer, and Silesse gathered in Grannvale’s courtyard. Time had aged them all to the point of young adulthood, and Eldigan’s eyes had become sharper, more exhausted. They had lost their childish warmth, and he was no longer mimicking the adults that he grew up around. Sigurd’s face had become more angular and Arvis’ had become sharp, which left Lewyn with his long, lanky body and awkwardly round features. He looked the youngest of the quadruplet, but none were bothered by it -- Not even the bard-to-be. They all sat at tea together, quietly sipping and ignoring the slowly darkening sky above. 

“It’s been a long time,” Lewyn stated quietly, unable to take the silence any longer. “I kinda missed you guys, to be perfectly honest.”

Sigurd spared a smile to the green haired man, “I have missed you as well, my friends. How lovely that we are able to gather here after so long apart.”

“Hm,” Eldgian took a long sip of his tea, “Our duties to the thrones have kept the four of us apart. The last time we were all together, we were children.” Untouched by the weight of war and politics. Arvis smiled and tapped his nails against his teacup. 

“Indeed. How funny it is that we’re all here in Grannvale, having tea as though our nations are not eager to shred each other to pieces.”

Arvis gained a glance from Eldgian, “Arvis, things are not that tense. Not quite yet.”

“Oh? They’re certainly not all peace and rainbows and sunshine, Eldigan.”

“No, but hopefully they can be resolved. Soon.” Eldgian was fit to take to knighthood very soon, and the weight of it held his shoulders, shook his bones, steadied his spine. “I will not have Augustria go to war with Silesse, Veltholmer, or Grannvale. You are all invited to my coronation, of course.” Sigurd nodded.

“I will happily attend.”

“I don’t know if I can make it,” Lewyn frowned. “My parents have me visiting the villages around the time that you’re to be knighted officially. I’ll do my best to attend, El.”

“I will be there,” Arvis smiled softly, ever so cunning and precise. “I look forward to leaving Veltholmer for a little while anyways.”

“Very well. We should pack up, men. It looks like it’s going to start raining on us any minute now.” Sigurd stood, gathering plates and cups and little leftover teacakes. Eldigan stood and began to gather them as well, leaving Lewyn and Arvis to clean the tablecloth and push in the chairs. 

It was in the gardens that Lewyn found himself cornered by Eldgian, arms still full of dishes and eyes gentle, soft.

“You really can’t make it?” He asked softly, nearly  _ pleadingly. _ Lewyn felt his heart thump against his throat, it wasn’t fair at all how the man in gold was so handsome and so … royal. 

“I can maybe sneak away,” Lewyn answered after a minute or two, “Just to come see you knighted. But not long after that.”

“I would miss you if you didn’t show up.”

What did that mean? Was Eldigan just being friendly? He felt himself want to run again, want to take Eldgian’s hands and run into the night with him, through the rain. But he hesitated, knowing that El’s loyalty was to the throne, and that it would always be there. 

“Okay, fine, fine. I’ll sneak off.”

A smile graces Eldgian’s face and Lewyn felt his own turn pink. It was rare to see the blonde smile, and rarer still for someone else to be the cause of it.

“Thank you, Lewyn.” His golden eyes felt so piercing, even now. Like they were seeing straight through the bard-to-be. “I hold you in very high regard, all things considered.”

“Run away with me,” Lewyn blurts out, “I mean it, El. Run with me and we’ll travel all over Jugdral together. Just you and me.”

There is a heavy pause that lingers between the two young men, broken only by the clinking together of the dishes and the rustle of the tablecloth in Lewyn’s hands.

“I … I cannot do that, Lewyn.” The green haired man’s shoulders sank.

“I must continue my --”

“-- Duty to the throne. I  _ know _ that. But is that really what you want? Is this really the future that you want, always staying in the same place, never moving, never wanting for more? It could just be you, me, and the open roads. We could -- We --”

Their eyes met. Lewyn noted that the blonde’s were morose and his own must have been happy, excited. 

“Lewyn.” He says quietly, after a moment, “I can’t.”

“But why  _ not? _ ”

“.. I cannot say.”

“Bullshit.”

Tension rose between them. “You know, you could have just fucking said no.” Tears began to well up in Lewyn’s eyes. 

“Lewyn --”

“Fine. Stay behind and give up your whole life to the throne, see if I care. Maybe you’ll become king someday,” He felt venomous and destructive, “Only after all the time you’ll spend on your knees in service.”

“Lewyn!”

Too far. He felt his throat close up.

“Goodbye, El. Don’t follow me.”

Lewyn felt more determined now than ever to pack up and run, especially with this fight hanging in his mind, with the tension at its peak. The bard-to-be turned heel and strode off, leaving Eldgian with his confused feelings and his uncertainty. 


	3. a wedding scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how better to end things than with a wedding?

There was a wedding in progress when Lewyn and Eldigan last met. It was the young lord Eldigan’s and the bride was absolutely glowing, happy and ecstatic to marry the man of her dreams and he too, was happy to marry the woman who had captured his heart. Lewyn arrived in Augustria in disguise and slipped into the crowd unnoticed, even as he was accompanied by Silvia. Grahnye was dressed in a long sweeping dress with a long veil and her dainty hand was being held by Eldigan’s as he was dressed in the royal colors of Nordion, Mystletainn at his hip. Lewyn watched from afar as the newlyweds laughed and smiled ever so brightly, twisting the tunic he was wearing in his hands and biting the inside of his cheek. They were unwelcome visitors here, but that wouldn’t stop the bard from getting closer. No, he had to say goodbye - Not that they’d seen each other since that night in Grannvale as youths, but it was sinking into Lewyn now more than ever that he had been too late.

Too late to tell the young, handsome lord how he really felt. Too late to tell Eldigan how he wished it could be him on the arm of the best knight Augustria would ever know, that he wished it could be him who carried the bouquet. But it was all futile now, and especially so when he watched them laugh and twirl together on the dance floor. It made Lewyn’s heart ache, and he sunk back into the crowd and drifted, feeling numb and unlike himself. He felt hollow, more than anything else. Perhaps it was the hollowness of his yearning heart, or perhaps it was the jovial air he had to put on in order to blend in with the wedding party.

Either way, it lead him into the hallways of the castle’s courtyard, and it was there that Eldigan found him. They stood in front of each other, quiet and breathless, Lewyn escaping, Eldigan holding his wrist.

“Wait.”

“Long time no see, El.”

“Lewyn, I would have invited you …”

“Yeah?” There’s a crack to the bard’s voice, and he hates himself for it. “Well, I didn’t really want to come along. Silvia’s idea to crash your wedding, not mine.” Lewyn withdrew his hand quietly, making Eldigan frown.

How handsome he looked in white and gold. It made the bard’s cheeks turn pink as Eldigan’s hand took Lewyn’s, squeezing it gently.

“I’m sorry, Lewyn. But, you … where have you been? No one has seen you for months and months, and now you show up here, at --”

“Your wedding. Don’t worry for where I’ve been. I’m a wanderer, El. I always have been.”

Eldigan drew himself closer in the dim light and Lewyn felt his heart leap into his throat, felt his breath catch.

“Lewyn. It isn’t too late to go back to Silesse … It isn’t too late to return home. Your parents are --”

“I don’t give a damn about them.” Lewyn answered flatly, looking away from the blonde and towards the crowd. “I gave a damn about you, once.”

“Once?”

“Once, when we were both younger men, and you didn’t have a pretty new wife on your arm.”

It sunk in deep and left a silence between the two that felt overwhelming, though Eldigan soon broke it with more questions.

“Lewyn, you’ve … got to move on. I know it won’t be easy.”

“Nothing ever is.”

“But it won’t do you any good to be hung up on what-ifs. On what you should have said, should have done.”

Lewyn jerked his hand away, brow furrowing. “I don’t remember asking for a lecture from you, El.”

“Lewyn --”

“No. You’re right, I shouldn’t be hung up on what-ifs. On what I should or shouldn’t have done. But I have to know one thing …”

He looked up, into those burning golden eyes that were soft with worry, hardened by duty, bright as the sun.

“Why didn’t you decide to run with me that day? When I left it all behind?”

“I … Lewyn, I cannot leave Augustria behind.”

“Yes, but  _ why -- _ ”

“I have a duty to uphold.” Eldigan’s eyes glanced towards Mystletainn. “One that I cannot run from, no matter how badly I  _ want _ to, no matter how far I run. It would catch up to me, and then you … you would have been hurt because of it.”

“So? So what if I would have been hurt? Do you know how hard you ripped out my heart that day, when you told me to get out of your sight?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Clearly not sorry enough.” Lewyn drew away, pressing himself against the nearby wall. “Let me go, Eldigan.”

“Lewyn. Please, look at me.”

And though it hurt to do so, the bard in green did. He saw the sharp features of the man he loved, soft with pain, soft with longing, soft with apology, and tears sprung to the prince of Silesse’s eyes.

“El --”

He could take it no longer. Even if it was only one kiss, it was something he had always wanted. Lewyn’s hands curled into the young lord’s wedding robes and pulled him down, mashing their lips together, leaving tear stains on the blonde’s cheeks. “You damn fool.” Lewyn whispered before he pulled away, “I hope you’re happy with her.” Eldigan surprisingly did not stop him from the kiss they’d just shared, a bittersweet goodbye.

“Lewyn … I hope you find your happiness, one day. I’m sorry that it couldn’t be with me.”

Lewyn gave him one last long stare, one last pining glance before he moved away, towards the party’s entrance. 

“You shouldn’t linger here,” He called over his shoulder to Eldigan, “Or someone’s going to think you got cold feet. Attend your party, El. And … goodbye.”

With that, he slipped into the crowd, vanishing from sight and leaving Eldigan with the feeling of Lewyn’s lips on his own and his breath caught in his throat.

And now, it was all over. No longer could Lewyn talk to the man he loved so dearly, no longer could he sneak visits to Augustria to see the knight in action, no longer could he send gifts to little Ares. Lewyn’s body trembled with the weight of saying goodbye, with the weight of things left unsaid. It wasn’t fair. Branded a traitor … beheaded by the country he swore his life to, his fealty to, his soul and what would, eventually, become his kingdom. If only things had turned out differently. But the bitter taste would not leave Lewyn’s mouth, even as he at long last moved away from the grave, leaving Grahnye and Ares to their sobbing, tears running down his own face that were disguised by the rain.

His first and only love, now eight feet under the ground, a death that he didn’t deserve.

“Eldigan … you damn fool.” 

Lewyn went on his way with Silvia in tow, feeling more hollow than ever, remembering their first and only kiss. It left an ashen taste on his lips, and it bled into the rest of him until everything he ate that day tasted of ash and of fire.

Lost love and heartache seemed to be the bard’s fate, and so he would welcome it with open arms, and a tender soul. But never would he forget the feeling of Eldigan’s mouth on his own, the noise of the wedding’s music, nor the warmth that the knight of Augustria always gave off. It would linger there with him like a ghost, reminding him always of the things he left unsaid.


End file.
